I jump out of bed and run to the door, swinging it open only to be bombarded with bright daylight. I look over my shoulder into the room and see that there are now dark, wooden blinds on the windows, whereas before there were only sheer curtains. My heart, which was already beating hard, starts to beat harder. Kenton put in blinds while I was at work, knowing how little sleep I’ve been getting. That was sweet. Really sweet.
I go to the bathroom, quickly taking care of business, and then head down to the kitchen. As soon as I make it around the corner, I’m surprised to see Kenton there, wearing the same cut-off sweats he had on last night and a pair of sneakers. His head is back, his throat working vigorously while he downs a bottle of water. The ends of his hair are dripping with sweat along with his bare chest.
I stand there captivated by him; I can’t pull my eyes away no matter how hard I try. Just watching him drink water is making the space between my legs get tingly. When the bottle’s empty, he pulls it from his mouth, the back of his hand goes to his lips, and he swipes them. As soon as his head turns, his eyes land on me and a look I’m starting to become familiar with fills his eyes.
“How’d you sleep?” he rumbles.
I stand there staring at him, trying to comprehend what he just said over the lustful haze that’s filling my head.
“You put up blinds,” I say when I finally find my words and then want to smack myself for being an idiot.
“I know how tired you’ve been,” he says, his eyes going soft.
“That was very sweet, and I actually slept really great. When I woke up, I thought I’d overslept and missed work.”
His smile makes the breath catch in my throat.
“I thought you would be at work,” I tell him, trying to think of something else to say besides, “Please kiss me.”
“Yeah. I have to leave for a couple of nights. Justin has a lead for me, but my flight isn’t until after midnight, and I wanted to make sure you would be okay being here alone.”
My heart plummets. I don’t want him to leave, but I know his work is important. Plus, I would look really stupid if I were to beg him to stay. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.” I wave him off, trying to do the same with the feeling of loneliness starting to fill my chest. I’ve forgotten what that feels like; I haven’t felt it since I moved here.
He shakes his head and takes two long steps until his body is crowding mine. “I like worrying about you.”
“Why?” I ask softly, my eyes drawn to his mouth.
“Honesty, I don’t know.”
I look at him and my hands go to his chest when I feel like I might fall over from the heat in his eyes.
“What I do know is I want this”—his finger presses lightly into my chest above my heart—“more than I’ve wanted anything, and that right there tells me everything I need to know.”
“Oh,” I breathe. The words aren’t deep or particularly meaningful, but something about the way he said it, with such sincerity, has me leaning deeper into him.
His hand goes to the back of my neck and the other around my waist. I expect him to kiss me, but instead, he just pulls my head into his na**d chest and the rest of me tighter against him.
We stand there for a long time with our arms wrapped around each other. I want to ask what he’s thinking, but I’m too afraid to break the moment. Instead, I listen to the sound of his heart beating rhythmically against my ear as I memorize the thud and double beat along with the way his chest feels when it expands against my cheek. This is a moment I know I can recall the next time I need comfort.
“When I get home, we have a date.”
“Maybe.”
I smile as I hear his low growl. “I’m not even pissed that you wanna f**k with me right now.” He pulls my head away from his chest, his hands go around my neck, and his thumbs slide under my jaw, tilting my head back. His mouth lowers and my eyes start to flutter closed. “Every time you f**k with me, it makes me wanna f**k you. One day, we’re going to get to a point in our relationship where you’ll say something to set me off and I’ll bend you over right where you stand and punish you for misbehaving or talking back.”
My cl*tstarts to pulse. I can feel my breathing increase, my chest meeting his on each deep inhale. He closes the gap between us, his lips touching mine. When his tongue touches my bottom lip, my eyes close and I get lost in his kiss. By the time he pulls his mouth from mine, I’ve never hated clothes more than I do right now. I have the urge to take off my sweatshirt and plaster my chest against his.
“I gotta shower,” he says, resting his forehead on mine.
“Sure.” I nod, my eyes still closed.
He chuckles and shakes his head against mine. “If you don’t wanna come shower with me, baby, you need to hop off.”
I open my eyes, seeing that my fingers have somehow gotten tangled into his hair and my legs have wrapped around his waist. I bite my bottom lip, place my hands on his shoulders, unwrap my legs, and hop down. “Sorry.” I shake my head, trying to clear my needful haze.
“Don’t apologize.” He kisses my nose then forehead. “I’ll be back down to say goodbye before I leave.”
“Okay.” I nod again.
His hand goes to his chest then runs down his abs. My eyes follow its movement until they drop lower, seeing his very apparent erection outlined through his sweats. My eyes get big and lift to his when he starts to laugh.
“Jesus, you’re cute.” He shakes his head, running a hand down his face. “I gotta go before you end up on the counter.” His voice sounds deeper than normal, and I nod again. “Baby, you gotta move,” he says, his hands fisting at his sides.
My gaze drops to his hands before shooting back up to his eyes when he growls. I don’t know what’s going on, but I immediately step aside so he can get out of the kitchen. I watch him walk away, his head bent as he mumbles something under his breath.
“Coffee,” I whisper to myself.
*
I pull up to the house, seeing a strange car parked out front. My pulse starts to speed up as I wonder who it could be. Kenton messaged me when I was at work, letting me know that he had arrived at his destination safely. I didn’t ask where he was; I figured that, if he wanted me to know, he would tell me. I worry that he’s in danger, and maybe his leaving has something to do with my situation. I don’t want him hurt because of me, but I trust that he knows what he’s doing. After all, he’s been doing it for years without incident.
I slowly pull into the driveway, trying to angle the car in case I need to make a quick escape. As soon as I’m able to see the front porch, I spot Justin sitting on the top step with a black duffel bag at his side and his head bent towards his phone. His head comes up when I get out of the car and slam the door.
“Hey ya, roomie,” he says, giving me a goofy smile.
“Roomie?” I ask, looking at the bag next to him and then noticing the sleeping bag he has along with it.
“Yep. Boss man told me to stay here with you,” he says, pointing a finger at me while standing. “I’m here until he gets home.”
“That’s not necessary.” I start shaking my head frantically. Justin seems like a nice kid, but I’m not sure I can deal with him for more than a few minutes without wanting to strangle him.
“Aw, come on! It’s going to be a great time. If you’re nice, I’ll let you paint my nails. I even brought my own color,” he says, pulling a bottle of black nail polish out of his pocket.
“I’m not painting your nails,” I huff out, wondering why the hell he would be carrying it around with him in the first place.
“Okay, you don’t have to. I can do it myself.” He shrugs, putting the bottle back in his pocket before bending down to pick up his bags.
“You don’t need to stay here,” I repeat.
“Have you met my boss?” He raises an eyebrow. “He is scary. If he calls and says, ‘Justin, I need you to stay with Autumn until I get home,’ I say, ‘Okay, no problem, boss man.’”
“No offense, but I think I’m just as safe alone as I would be with you. Actually, I think I’m better off on my own. If you’re here, I have to worry about both of us.”
“You should never judge, sweet cheeks. I was a sniper. I know how to kill someone with one finger, and I guarantee nothing will happen to you while I’m here.”
Wow, okay. Didn’t see that coming. So I’m probably safer with him, but I still don’t want him here. “I think I should call Kenton,” I tell him, pulling out my cell.
“He’s gone to ground,” he singsongs.
“What does that mean?”
“It means he is unavailable until he’s available.”
“But what if you need to talk to him? What if I need to talk to him?”
“If there’s an emergency and he needs to get back here, there’s a code,” he says conspiratorially.
“What’s the code?” I ask, watching as he pulls out a set of keys from his pocket, opening the front door.
“No way, sweet cheeks. You don’t need to know the code.”
“What is it?” I put my hands on my hips, glaring at him.
“I can’t tell ya.” He shrugs, stepping into the house, and as soon as he’s inside, he turns, grabs my arm, and drags me with him. “Now, boss man said I have to be on my best behavior and to not say anything stupid or try anything on you…unless I want to see what it feels like to be neutered. I thought that was taking things a little too far, but he didn’t feel the same.” He smiles, walking into the living room to set his bags down. “Also, I’m sorry to say you’re going to have to keep your hands to yourself and control the urge to molest me.” He flexes his arms, and I close my eyes and groan.
“I’ll try to control myself,” I say, opening my eyes, wondering if there is a way out of this. I’m going to kill Kenton.
“That would be appreciated. I wish things were different, but I like my balls just the way they are. Plus, I don’t think you want to explain to my mom why I can’t give her grandchildren.”
Oh, God. Maybe I should make a move on him to save the world from him reproducing. “I need to go to bed,” I tell him, shaking my head.
“I’ll be here.” He pulls out some kind of gaming console from his bag and sets it on the coffee table. Then he pulls out a controller and some wires, but what I don’t see are clothes.
I watch him for a few minutes as he connects the system to the TV, and after he has everything hooked up, he sits down on the couch, pulls out a pair of headphones that have a mic, puts them on, and then turns on the game.
The second it loads, the loud sound of guns firing fills the room and men wearing camo appear on the screen. I look at the TV then at Justin and shake my head before leaving the room. I don’t care if Kenton has gone to ground; I need to text him to let him know that I’m going to kill him when he gets home. Then I need to go to bed. I go upstairs, pull out my phone, and send Kenton a text.
Me: I hope you make it home safely so I can kill you when you get here.
I press send then bite my lip, wondering if I should apologize. I know he has my best interest at heart, but I do not want a babysitter. I toss my phone on the bed, grab some clothes from the dresser, and make my way across the hall to shower. When I get back to my room, I go directly to my phone and press the button, seeing that I got a text back.
Kenton: Sweet dreams, baby.
That’s it? He didn’t even address my threat. I huff out a breath, shake my head, toss the phone onto the bed, and pick it right back up to send another text.
Me: Ditto.
I hit send then feel stupid, wondering if I should’ve just left it alone.
I wake up in complete darkness for the second morning in a row. My first thought is Kenton. I miss not having him hold me. I don’t know how it’s possible to miss sleeping with someone after only having it for a few nights, but I do. I stretch out and look at the clock. It’s three thirty. I need to get up, send some e-mails, and pay a few bills before I have to get ready for work.
I got an e-mail back from Sid the other day, and I could tell even through e-mail that he was upset I hadn’t called him. Link also told me that I should try not to have too much contact with anyone in Vegas. He’s worried I could somehow be tracked. I think this is a little over the top, but what do I know?
I don’t miss home as much as I thought I would. I really don’t miss my old life at all. I know that Link can tell that I’m thinking about moving to Tennessee. The last time I spoke with him, he told me that he would be willing to have my stuff packed up and sent out to me if that’s what I want. The idea of making this my permanent home is exciting and scary. I just want to make the right choice.
I get out of bed and pull on a pair of sweats before opening my door. The first things I hear are explosions and yelling coming from the living room below. I slept for over eight hours, and I wonder if Justin sat downstairs playing that game the whole time. Then I wonder how the hell he’s supposed to ‘look out for me’ when he probably wouldn’t hear if someone were to break down the front door.
“I made coffee!” Justin yells over the TV as soon as I make it to the bottom landing. I wonder how the hell he heard me when the stairs didn’t even squeak. “Told you—you are safe with me,” he teases loudly as soon as I finish my thought.
I shake my head and walk into the living room, seeing that the whole space is covered with food wrappers and open bottles of soda. I have no idea how he consumed so much food in such a short amount of time. I take a seat next to him on the couch, pull a bag of Doritos from the coffee table to my lap, shove my hand in the bag, pull out a handful, and stuff my face.